


Sweetrolls

by imnotacyborg



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Drabble Collection, Inigo and the Dragonborn being friendos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-04 04:21:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5320247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotacyborg/pseuds/imnotacyborg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He would never forget the arrow in his friend's head, but he was alive and that's what matters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. of unknown friendships

Inigo sighed heavily, leaning against his brown horse. For how long had Komaru and Mercer Frey been inside that tomb? Four hours? The layer of snow was already thick enough for the horses' hooves to sink in slowly.

Komaru had assured him that if anything happened, Inigo would be summoned into the tomb to help them. Inigo was still curious why Mercer Frey decided that he should be left out.  
_Waiting is so boring_. _I should not have agreed. What if spiders show up? I will have fun alone?_  
Fortunately, Komaru had left his backpack behind. Full of bright jewels, shimmering soul gems and interesting books, Inigo could try to entertain himself for a while.  
_Let's see...Olaf and the Dragon...Aedra and Daedra...Yellow Book of Riddles_ (oh, he has good taste!) _, The Dragonborn Guide Book_ (oh, I told him he did not need it) _, Atlas of Dragons...The Wolf Queen ...Oh, this is good!_

Inigo sat on the floor and leaned his back on one of the columns close to the tomb's entrance, adjusted the green cape around his body and began to read the first chapter.

__Hey Hey! Wake up, my friend! Look!_ _

It was Mr. Dragonfly’s voice in his head. Inigo groaned and opened his eyes, noticing the book open on his lap and the tense posture of the horses.  
He looked around and saw a small, dark figure walking up the stairs of the entrance and turning around from behind, carrying a slightly bigger figure on their shoulder.

For a brief second, a yellow glow appeared on the waist of the body on the person’s shoulder.

_That light...It's Dawnbreaker!_

Inigo pulled the ebony bow from the saddle on his horse, took an arrow from his quiver and ran toward the figure.

"Hey! You there! Stop right now! "

The figure began to walk faster, almost running, toward a dim light in the distance.

Inigo hissed, set an arrow and fired. The arrow fell a few centimeters away from the foot of the figure, and they halted stiffly.

"I recommend that you do not do this," a female voice said quietly "Unless you want your friend to die poisoned."

Inigo put his bow back and took quick steps towards the woman. Every step closer he noticed the small details in the image. The female figure wearing a brown cloak, with the leather outfit he recognized as the Thieves Guild and the figure on his shoulder was clearly his gray friend, still wearing his armor of steel plates and the divine sword in his belt. He noticed small drops of blood falling to the ground and soaking the shoulder of woman's leather clothing.

"What...what happened?"

 

Karliah, the mysterious Dunmer woman, carefully placed Komaru on top of a sleeping bag and began to poke around in a backpack.

Inigo shifted uneasily from foot to foot, holding tight the reins of his horse and Frost. It was genuinely painful to see his friend in such a state, with a poisoned arrow in his chest and a stab in the stomach. It brought bad memories that he wished to ignore right now.

"Mercer Frey planned this" Karliah muttered as she soaked a piece of cloth with various potions "The poison was not for your friend, but for Mercer. However, he used your friend as a shield and this happened. I managed to hide, but I saw him stab your friend with his sword. I waited for him to leave and brought your friend here. "

Inigo nodded and mumbled a distracted "thank you".

Komaru’s chest gasped, sucking cold air, trying to fill his lungs desperately. Blood and saliva began to come out of the mouth of the smaller Khajiit.

"Please ..." Inigo whispered and crouched beside his friend "Please do not go. Do not give up, my friend. There are still many places to explore. "

Karliah watched them carefully as she gathered the bandages near her knee. The poison was strong, it could take a few days for the young Khajiit to recover, but the faith of his blue friend would help him out of this.


	2. How are you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That little scar will always catch his attention.

Inigo could not take his eyes off the small scar on his friend’s forehead.

The memories of that awful day were engraved in his mind. His frantic thoughts, frightened screams, the arrow hitting flesh and his friend tripping on his feet, giving Inigo a confused and hurt look---

Komaru had fallen on the floor with the black arrow coming out of his forehead, blood coming out of the wound and covering his eyes, his whiskers, his chin-- 

And yet there he was. Still so small and stubborn, still strong as ever. Nothing seemed to have changed between them. It was as if Inigo had never gone mad and shot an arrow between his eyes.

"Listen, you arrogant mustachioed--".

Inigo blinked, turning away from his thoughts when he heard Komaru’s voice. He and J'zargo were arguing again. Something involving a Frost Atronach and a bath.

"If you try to _cool_ my head again I will make a point of waking you up in the middle of the night with an angry Dremora".

J'zargo just snorted in response.

Inigo watched as the cat with ridiculous mustaches went to his own bed and then looked up at his friend, watching him scratch the scars on his nose absently.

Inigo gave an encouraging smile and a pat on the shoulder.

"Good things comes to those who wait, my friend."


	3. Roads Untraveled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All for a bow.

"You know," Inigo mumbled, trying to not look down, "this place makes all the gas bags smell like flowers in comparison".

Komaru snorted, pulling the tip of his hood down to his nose, turning his head against the wind bringing the foul smell inside the enormous cavern. Inigo was regretting this already. 

"C'mon, she seemed desperate" Komaru said, walking on the tip of his toes on the column being used as a spare bridge between the rock they were on and the opening on the other side. Inigo watched him carefully, his legs ready to advance if he saw the smallest signal of Komaru slipping. The strong waters below didn't make him feel safe, at all. 

"She seemed depressed, if anything"

"Well, she's been here for years..."

"Considering the smell, I can understand why you want to help her so much" 

"She said there might be Falmers around here"

"Have I ever told you I hate those things? Because I really do, my friend"

Komaru turned around to give Inigo a flat, totally unimpressed, look. Inigo gulped, trying to not think about those boots slipping, dragging his friend with them down to wherever the river below went. Komaru rolled his eyes and continued his way up the bridge. 

"I'll give you the sweet roll I have"

Inigo only began complaining again when he was on the other side of the bridge, done with his sweet roll.

 

 

Inigo felt the cold against his spine. The ghost, Katria, was back.

"My bow" he heard her whisper, because apparently that's all ghosts can do, "It's there, on that log"

Inigo was proud of his own archery skill, really. He was even prouder of his own bow. But he couldn't deny the bow on the end of the log, covered in small scratches, a dent here and there, was a fine work. Strong.

Komaru gave both of them a look, hmming to himself. He untied the belt with his sword from his waist and put it on Inigo's arms, putting both of his feet on the tip of the log closer to them. Inigo almost screeched.

"My friend, what are you doing?! Get down from there!"

"That bow looks good, doesn't it? I'll get it" He gave a few more steps to the bow. Inigo sputtered and held tightly to the sheath in his arms. Katria watched both of them in silence.

Komaru's tail swayed left and right, no doubt helping him keep his balance on the old log he was walking on. A few more steps, a loud crack. Inigo felt his fur itch, Mr. Dragonfly's voice frenetic with worry on his head.

"Forget the bow!" Inigo yelled, putting his hand on the log, "Come back, my friend; there are many bows outside!"

"I'm almost there, hold on" Komaru yelled back, his hand reaching for the golden body of the bow.

Another loud  _crack_ and Inigo's heart was hammering. The foul smell of the cave sudenly seemed more intense, invading each of his senses. He felt a cold on his shoulder, almost as if wind was whispering around. He turned his head slightly and saw Katria giving him a weirdly calm look. 

"He will be fine" She assured, turning her eyes back to the grey Khajiit.

Indeed, he was making his way back. While the log fell in pieces to the river below. Inigo dropped the sword and reached for Komaru's arms, pulling him to safe land. The log now deep on the waters below.

"My friend" Inigo hissed, trying to take deep breaths, "There are easier ways to give me a heart attack".

Komaru laughed and offered him the bow. In a slightly far future, Inigo would tell all of his friends how his old friend and him risked their lives for a shaggy bow and a crown made of a rare kind of stone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the only reason i didn't updated this fic is that i lost both xbox and pc copies of skyrim  
> so i lost the inigo mod....  
> BUT HELL YEAH I'LL WRITE ANYWAY
> 
> ps: the quest here is "lost to the ages", you get it after you read the aetherium wars book (i think it's part of the dawnguard dlc idk)


	4. dragon pie, oh my oh my!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even the Dragonborn must face the consequences.
> 
> (Dragonborn DLC spoilers. Maybe)

Inigo could barely breath. _Faster legs, c'mon!._

Oh gods, was his friend dying?! Was this a result of him swallowing something he shouldn't?! Again?! Did Miraak or Hermaeus Mora made him eat something he was allergic to?!

" _Inigo!_ " Kharjo yelled, with his friend's arm around his shoulder, "We're going the wrong way! We should have turned left!"

Inigo could barely hear him under the sound of the storm above them. He could hear 'wrong way' and 'left' and that's all that mattered at the moment. Taking another deep breath, he held tighter to his friend's arm around his own shoulder, clenched his teeth and forced his legs in the direction of the giant mushrooms on the horizont. _His friend was dying and there was nothing he could do_.

 

 

"He isn't _dying_ ," Master Neloth rolled his eyes, putting his hands on his waist and turning to Inigo and Kharjo with an annoying, know-it-all (maybe he knew it all) look, "it's a fever...a high temperature one; maybe the temperature in Apocrypha was drastically different, maybe he contracted an unknown disease...Hmm, that would be certainly an interesting subject to investigate..."

"Can you do something?" Kharjo asked, putting the wet towel back on their friend's forehead.

"Well, no. A simple potion seems to not have any noticeable effects, and he hasn't woken up yet to even say thank you to me; all that can be done is let him rest until his body is ready to wake up".

"I don't understand," Inigo mumbled, looking at the sword in his hand. It wasn't his, it was his friend's. It was covered in dark, dry blood; it smelled like old memories, old secrets nobody should know or be allowed to know. "Doesn't he have a dragon soul? Dragon blood? Why did this... "battle" have such an effect on him? As if Miraak was a disease?"

Neloth hmmed, closing his eyes for some seconds. Kharjo sighed heavily.

"Perhaps... Their souls had a conflict between themselves; perhaps Herma-Mora made him feel sick for the sheer thought of it, perhaps your friend was reckless and ate something he shouldn't and didn't feel sick until now because adrenaline was keeping him up; perhaps the gods decided he had to face some consequences, there are many possibilities" Neloth shrugged and began to turn back to his table.

"We can't leave him here" Inigo said, standing up.

Neloth raised an eyebrow, "pardon?"

"He is sick, we can't simply leave him laying around on the floor, he needs a proper bed"

"Can you summon a bed or something?" Kharjo asked, taking his sword off his back.

"Do I look like a court wizard to you?!"

 

Inigo looked up from the book on his lap. No changes.

Kharjo and he had been running around Solstheim, searching for receipts and potions that could help Komaru's body heal faster, or at least help him wake up. No results, and his friend still had a feverish temperature. He sighed. They couldn't complain much; Miraak had been defeated, the people were no longer walking around mumbling non-sense sentences (Inigo didn't even _liked_ to think about _thinking_ about the meaning of those words people were saying in such a unaware state of mind), Frea had even appeared once or twice, escaping from her duties to thank them for their services and try to provide a solution for his friend's apparent comatose state. No results.

Inigo shivered. There came that thought again.

What if his friend didn't wake up? What if he _died_? Away from home, away from a (possibly alive, maybe not) family, away from his loved sweets?

_Gods, please_ , Inigo prayed silently, _he's too young, don't do this to him_.

He went back to his book, his eyes seeing the words but not reading, not absorbing them. He sighed. His eyes briefly darted to his diary, poking it's button out of their pack's pocket.

_"D....g'n p'....my my..."_

Inigo gasped, almost falling from his chair. His ears perked up, his eyes turning expectantly to the bundle resting on the bed for days.

"Wha'?" Komaru mumbled tiredly, his eyes barely open, "drag'n pie is t'sty and g'd..."

Inigo held his breath, _feeling_ his eyes shine with happiness.

"T'ke a bite, y'u won' look b'ck..." His friend giggled drowsily.

Inigo gave a shaky laugh, feeling as if all the weight of the world had been taken off his back, his chest, _his mind_.

"Dragon pie, oh my oh my!" He singed, smiling.

"It's a real' t'sty d'sh, you 'eally shoul' try!" His friend smiled back.

_Dragon pie, oh my oh my!_ , Mr. Dragonfly sang with them,  _It's tasty and good, you really should try!_

_Mr. Dragonfly,_ Inigo replied,  _that's not how the song goes!._ __

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inigo i made the dragon pie  
> E A T I T  
> (half of this is bullshit sorry i just wanted to write a sick chapter)


	5. merciful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everything has a beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: contains a bit of gore.

_I am a fool,_ Inigo's hands were shaking, shaking so much,  _I am such a fucking fool._ But Gods, what else could he do?! He didn't want to die, and he saw what the other Khajiit could do with a sword or a bow or just his claws and a lot of rage. He couldn't risk this, he  _wouln't_ risk this, he wasn't going to shake death's hand today or any day soon, if he could help it. He was sorry ( _so so_ sorry), but his friend (are they even still friends? Inigo hoped not, just for the sake of...of  _what_?) had to die. Inigo could get the money of the reward and give enough to the universe for it to forget anything ever happened.

"Inigo?" oh Gods his hands  _his hands_ he had to keep the arrow straight, "Inigo, dinner is here, come on", his friend's tone was neuter, neither giving nor taking anything, but Inigo could feel something lurking underneath, something Inigo was afraid of facing.

_He has to go_. He swallowed dry. His friend's eyes were scanning the trees, watching as always for predators waiting to attack them or the possibility of more salted meat to add to their packs. But the only thing there was Inigo and he was aiming an arrow to his head.

Breathing shakily, Inigo could almost,  _almost_ , hear his beloved mother's voice under the loud thunder in his ears. The bitter irony of the situation made his mouth almost twist in a bitter smile, full of poison he didn't want to swallow.

_Breath and focus._

Making sure his aim was straight, he let go of the black tip of the arrow, feeling his spine shiver with the silent  _thump_ of ebony reaching flesh. He closed his eyes and clenched his hand around his bow.  _Oh Gods_.

_Please let me go I can't take this anymore_. His friend was screaming in pain. Inigo couldn't take this, he couldn't.

He ran away like the coward he was, leaving his friend to the wolves. The money could burn in the bitter fire of the Gods, for all he cared.

 

* * *

He couldn't breath,  _he couldn't breath_ , oh Gods there was an arrow in his head and  _he was bleeding it wasn't stopping and his mind was fading_ what to do WHAT TO DO--

His hands, not being able to stay still in any way, closed around the black (black?) haste of the arrow and he  _pulled_ and  _Gods_ it just made everything so much worst. It was like his brain was trying to claw its way out and he just wanted to allow it to do so just so his suffering the pain  _the blood_ would end and he could find a way out of whatever mess he was suddenly into.

_Where's Inigo?_ , his fading brain asked suddenly,  _was he attacked? Did they, whoever they are, take him? I need to... I need to find him! Come on!_ , he urged himself,  _get up!_

His arms were barely moving, his hands almost letting go of the branches cracked on the ground. He could feel tears in his eyes, the blood still dripping from the tip of the arrow, covering his vision with dark red, going into his mouth, soaking his claws in blood that, for the first time in... years? Decades? Were his. He took a shaky breath, his legs feeling hollow as an old tree. Using his claws to keep ahold on a big stone nearby, he slowly got on his feet. For the first time ever, he appreciated the could weather of Skyrim. It suddenly made his thoughts feel harshly clear from everything happening.

"Inigo", he found himself whispering, "Where are you?"

The skies didn't answer him. His brain only cackled and went back to its dark corner. 

Feeling the tears come up again, he took a step and  _there_ , right  _there_ , was when everything went to shit and he was screaming names. Inigo, where are you? Inigo help me Inigo just yell something so I can find you Inigo tell me you're kay Inigo--

His throat was dry and he was sure his voice wouldn't work for some time. When was the last time he drank something? When was the last time Inigo and he ate something together like normal friends?

He took another step, in the direction of the opening in the trees ahead, and he just wish everything would end. He just wish he had a home to go back to.

* * *

 

He was lot and Skyrim's winds weren't forgiving.

The blood had long ago dried. Somewhere near the border he had snapped the arrow off his headand thrown it on the ground, accepting the fact the blood was going to cover his face until he died in the middle of the forgotten roads of that frozen land. Somewhere near the border he had given up on trying to find a blue Khajiit. Somewhere near the border he forgot his name.

Who were his parents again? Did he have parents at all? Relatives? Did he have a dog? His foggy memory told something about trying to befriend a dog he saw running around but then he got kicked out of a town by scruffy looking Nords. What did he do? Did he break something?

His brain forgot that as soon as he remembered.

He stopped suddenly. Or did his legs stop by themselves? And looked around. From a small distance he could see the Sea of Ghosts. Could he go there? Maybe he could take some time and his brain would work normally again.

His legs, bless his legs, took him in that direction, willing to see the sea... again? For the first time? Who cared, he had all the time in the world. 

Until he heard a sickeningly  _squelch_ and suddenly a head, covered in dirty blond hair, fell near his feet and his ears began to drum loudly. 

His neck felt a sharp, cold pain. He winced and looked to the side. A man with brown hair and cold grey eyes was looking at him, dressed in dark red and brown leathers and metal tipped boots. Several more dressed just like him were surrounding a few... soldiers? Dressed in blue and beige. And suddenly him too. He was afraid of asking what was happening. 

Feeling his fur bristle, he slowly raised his shaky hands.

"I... I was just going t--"

"You'll come with us, Khajiit" the red soldier spat, "No troublemaker like you will be allowed beyond the border".

"But I didn't do anything--"

"Shut the  _fuck up_ " the grey eyes narrowed, "I know of the cats silver tongue; keep your mouth shut and I won't slice your neck"

And then he was in a carriage with a thief, a soldier and a man that murdered the High King.

* * *

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> might have a part 2! who knows!!!
> 
>  
> 
> you know what bothers me A LOT in eso lore???? the only thing the dragonborns had in common with the dragons was the thu'um   
> THEY HAD DRAGON SOULS/BLOOD AND THAT'S ALL THEY HAD IN COMMON WITH DRAGONS  
> so yes i'll put every cliche thingy on my dragonborn for now on past me can suck it  
> (and i got skyrim back!!!! BUT IT'S ALL GLITCHED LMAO) (i couldnt even fight miraak)


End file.
